


Learn My Lessons Well

by tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Paddling, Power Dynamics, Roleplay, Spanking, Teacher/Student Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Mr. Barnes was warned that Tony Stark was a bad student, disrespectful and a handful of trouble. Well, Mr. Barnes is going to give him some trouble





	Learn My Lessons Well

**Author's Note:**

> Tony and Bucky are in an established kink relationship that includes age-gap play and roleplaying. Bucky is NOT Tony’s actual teacher, and Tony is his actual age (late 40s). The stepping out of the shoes thing is their pre-arranged check-in that says Tony is done being paddled and wants to move on to the sex now. They have safe words.
> 
> For the K3 square: Spanking

 

Mr. Barnes glanced up as the last bell rang. His final period of the day was planning, so he only listened to the passage of feet outside his door without having to deal with the hurried exits of the kids who were eager to hit the busses and get home. He loosened his tie. Only a few more minutes until his problem student arrived for an after school detention.

Assuming, of course, that Tony showed up for detention and wasn’t out behind the school sneaking sips out of a flask or drawing graffiti on the building.

Mr. Barnes glanced at the clock again, three minutes.

When Tony showed up, sullen and dragging his feet, arms crossed over his chest like everything was just _too much_ , and he was _so exasperated_ , and this was _incredibly stupid_ \-- teenage emotional projection for the win -- Bucky almost swallowed his tongue and fell out of character.

Tony was wearing what was obviously a school uniform, the button-down white shirt opened an extra button further than decency would allow, the tie a loose circle around his delectable throat, a pleated skirt so short that it was a wonder that people didn’t know his religion at a glance, white over-the-knee socks, and a pair of heels that showed off just how trim his calves were and how perky his ass was.

“Mr. Stark,” Barnes said. “You’re late.” Sure, if you wanted to get technical, Tony was about a minute and a half late.

Tony rolled his eyes extravagantly and snapped his gum. “Gotta walk all the way from class to do your stupid detention,” he snarked. “What do you want me to do, run in these shoes?”

“I expect you to show up on time for your detention,” Mr. Barnes said.

“Yeah, yeah, your _expectations_.” Tony rocked his head back and forth, obviously completely put out.

“Indeed,” Mr. Barnes said. “I expect you to show up to class and detention on time. I expect you to be quiet and mannerly in class. And I expect you to do your homework. And _turn it in_ \--” he added, because he knew Tony was going to say he did the work, he just left it at home. It was a common excuse that Tony gave, but he never seemed to bring any of his assignments in for the slightly lower credit. Mr. Barnes was, quite honestly, at the end of his rope. “Those are your duties as a student, and I expect you to fulfill them.”

Tony rolled his eyes again, and Mr. Barnes was heartily sick of that expression. “Or what? Or you’ll stand there and lecture me about my responsibilities? I get enough of that at home. It’s not like it matters. I’ll get into whatever school I want, you know it. I know it. This is just boring make-work until I’m old enough to get some stupid job at my dad’s stupid company.”

Mr. Barnes suppressed a sigh. Sometimes, being around high school students was contagious. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start acting like one himself.

“Or, since apparently, a lecture’s not the thing for you,” Mr. Barnes said, “I’m going to have to move up in punishment.”

There was a sparkle of interest in those brown eyes before Tony snapped his gum again. “Such as?”

Mr. Barnes pointed to the desk. “Put your hands on my desk and lean over until your back’s parallel to the floor. Do I need to ask if you know what _parallel_ means, since you skipped out on your homework. Again.”

Tony stared at him like he might protest the slight to his intelligence, and then bent in the position he was told, mouth hanging slightly open.

Mr. Barnes walked all the way around him, admiring the sight. Tony’s thighs were tight together and the hem of his uniform shivered in place, as if Tony was a bundle of nerves, carefully concealed. Barnes got his foot in between Tony’s shoes and kicked his legs apart, about the width of a chair.

“What the he--” Tony’s voice dropped, then went up suddenly in a startled yelp as Barnes pulled out the disciplinary paddle he’d left on his desk and swatted Tony’s ass with it, right through the pleated skirt. “Ow!”

His hands left the desk’s surface to guard his vulnerable backside.

“Move your hands, now,” Barnes ordered. “Back on the desk, or it’ll go a lot worse for you.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Maybe it was the flat hiss that Barnes put in his words, but Tony made a slight yipping sound and put his hands back on the desk, thrusting his backside up like a dare or a taunt.

Barnes smacked him again, enjoying the dull thud of wood against the cloth, the way the skirt twitched.

“You call that a spanking? I get worse than that down at the ice cream parlor.”

Barnes put a little more force into the next blow. He knew this routine. Starting out hard, a recalcitrant student couldn’t take more than a half-dozen or so, and they’d quickly forget, but start slow and build up, and they could manage a whole punishment session. Plus the sore ass would remind them for a few days, at least, that perhaps, behaving better was in order.

Another swat. Two. Three. Tony bit down on a grunt, then threw a smug look over his shoulder. “Careful, Mr. Barnes,” he said. “You wouldn’t want your arm to get tired.”

“I don’t think I’m getting through to you,” Mr. Barnes said. He put the paddle down and ignored Tony’s triumphant grin, all teenage bravado. Before Tony quite knew what was happening, not fast enough to struggle, Barnes flipped the pleated skirt up.

Tony’s ass was only a little pink, around the edges of his panties, a pair of sheer, black hip huggers that barely concealed his crack and lovingly clung to him. Barnes raised his eyebrows with appreciation.

“Hey!” Tony objected again, twisting.

Barnes put a hand in the middle of Tony’s back and shoved him flat on the desk. “Move again and see if I don’t tie you down,” he told Tony.

Tony swallowed hard, his throat making an audible click. “Yes… yes, sir,” he managed.

“Do you need to count your punishment, so you’ll better remember?” Barnes asked, almost gently.

Tony paused to consider it, then nodded.

“All right,” Barnes said. “I want you to count each stroke, and then say ‘I’m sorry I didn’t turn in my assignment, sir. I was wrong and I’m very sorry. May I have another?’”

“Jesus Christ,” Tony hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes glittering with sudden, unshed tears.

Barnes jerked those sheer, black little lacy bits of nothing down until they were stretched wide between Tony’s knees, showing off that lovely ass. “We’ll begin.”

***

Mr. Barnes showed him the paddle, thin oak with about a dozen holes drilled through it.

“Ready?” Mr. Barnes asked.

Tony swallowed hard, restraining his glee. Bucky -- and Tony was trying hard to stay in character, but Bucky was still Bucky, even if he’d taken on the role of stern disciplinarian and perverted math teacher, to counter Tony’s naughty school girl. “Yes, sir, Mr. Barnes,” Tony said.

The cracking sound and the bite of the wood stung Tony’s ass cheek, like a splatter of brilliant orange. Stunning in its splintering pain, but Tony quickly regrouped. “One,” he said, keeping his hands loose on the desk, spreading his fingers to avoid digging his nails into his palms. “I'm sorry I didn’t turn in my assignment, sir. May I have another?”

“You didn’t say you were wrong.” _Crack._ “Start again.”

“One!” Tony gasped. That time the pain radiated out from the point of impact until his whole ass was warm and tingling. “I’m sorry I didn’t turn in my assignment, sir. I… I…”

“I was wrong,” Barnes repeated, gently. “And I’m very sorry.”

“I was wrong,” Tony said, dull. It was humiliating to admit to being wrong with his damn underwear around his knees. “And I’m very sorry. May I have another?”

Begging to be spanked, too, burned dull in his heart. Embarrassing. Shame flooded him and he almost missed it when Barnes swung again. Barnes walloped Tony’s ass until they got all the way to twenty.

“I was told you were a problem child,” Barnes told him. “ _Naughty_. Badly behaved. Rebellious. Defiant. How are you feeling now?”

By that time, tears were streaming down Tony’s face, his mouth was hanging open and his ass was mostly numb. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of numb, either, but the kind that would wake up shortly and throb and ache and hurt like a bastard to sit down.

“Sorry,” Tony managed to say between choking sobs. “So sorry.”

“What else?” And Mr. Barnes’ hand reached between Tony’s legs, fingers light over Tony’s cock. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d gotten hard -- he’d started that way, but lost it somewhere in the pounding Barnes had given his tush.

“Horny,” Tony admitted.

“You like it?” Barnes asked, still stroking him, soft, unbearable soft. His arm brushed against Tony’s inflamed ass, stinging and waking up the bruises there.

Tony’s hips rocked against the pressure of Bucky’s hand -- Barnes, Barnes, he corrected himself frantically, because if he fell out of character now, it would absolutely ruin the scene and Tony demanded perfection of himself, even if he was a trifle more forgiving to others. And Barnes had been perfect, delectable and utterly filthy. It wouldn’t be Tony who spoiled this. “Mr. Barnes, I don’t--” he said, then moaned as Barnes twisted his wrist at the end of the upstroke, squeezing at the head of Tony’s dick.

“You do, you like it,” Mr. Barnes said. “Admit it, you misbehave on purpose. You wear those little skirts trying to get my attention. Say it!”

“I… I do,” Tony confessed. “I want…”

“You are very, _very_ bad,” Mr. Barnes told him, and he let go of Tony’s dick -- eliciting a plaintive whine -- to rub his hand over Tony’s sore ass, which got an even higher, more pained response.

“I am,” Tony said. “So bad, so bad, I need, I need to be punished, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yes, you do,” Barnes said, leaning over Tony, his hand still working Tony’s ass, squeezing the muscle, petting the tender skin. One finger pressed briefly on his asshole, teasing at the entrance to Tony’s body. “I can see that you do. Do you need more, or do you think the lesson’s sunk in yet?”

Tony considered it, as well as he could while Bucky was teasing his asshole, crooning over him in that over-solicitous way of his that made Tony just want to roll over and show his (metaphorical) belly. The adrenalin rush of the paddling was wearing off and Tony’s dick was a little more than interested in moving on to the rest of the scene. “I--” It wasn’t a safe word, he reminded himself. It was a planned check-in. Tony wasn’t wimping out, and Bucky wasn’t going easy on him. They were just moving on to the next thing.

The really fun part, Tony told himself. “My feet hurt, Mr. Barnes,” he said, stepping out of the high heeled shoes and resting his bare feet on the cold floor. It wasn’t untrue, really. Heels were a bitch, and they stretched his arch and made the balls of his feet ache like crazy. He didn’t know how women walked around in the damn things all the time.

“All right, Stark,” Mr. Barnes said, and he put the paddle down on the desk. “I’ll give you until tomorrow to turn in that assignment, at a twenty point penalty.”

Tony turned around slowly, letting the skirt fall into place, but didn’t take any pains to keep his lacy underthings from falling the rest of the way around his ankles. “Are you sure I can’t negotiate a ten point bonus? I really do need an A on this homework assignment.” He ran his fingers down Mr. Barnes’ tie.

“Well, if you can put that smart mouth to use, then we’ll discuss it,” Mr. Barnes said.

Time to get to work. Tony went down on his knees and unzipped Mr. Barnes’s pants.


End file.
